Page 82 of Conflict
My gaze falls to where Shane just entered the room, looking gorgeous in a pair of jeans and a pink button-up. I don’t care what anyone says. There’s not much sexier than a guy wearing pink. Shane? Definitely rocks the look.
He crosses the room until he’s directly in front of me. Everything around us fades. “Good morning, sunshine,” he whispers.
Then he takes my hand and brings it to his lips.
The sound of a fork dropping breaks the silence. I glance up to see all eyes watching us with rapt interest. Looks like we’ve been outed before we could even go on a first date. I shrug and fall into Shane’s side when he slips an arm around my shoulder.
And Jeremy, God love him, saves the day. “Hey, she’ll know. Alyssa, back me up. Isn’t it true that the “Electric Slide” is all about vibrators?”
“Wait. Why wouldIbe the one to know that?” I ask, wondering what the heck Sierra has told her husband.
“Because you’re all about the eighties music,” Jeremy says, aduhexpression on his face.
“The Electric Boogie,” I say, correcting him, “is from the seventies. And no, it’s not.”
He throws his hands up in exasperation. “Next, you’re going to tell me Clarence Carter wasn’t singing about masturbation.”
Sierra chokes on her breakfast, and Lexi bursts into giggles.
The Wellington men appear to be confused, and Jeremy is quick to explain. “There’s this thing my wife likes to call hand-job gate.”
“Excuse me?” I ask, wondering how in the heck I’ve missed this story.
“Long story super short—just like the supposed hand job.” Jeremy gives Lexi a dirty look. “Before Sierra and I were together, we were at a party on the beach. Some drunk girl shoved her hand down my shorts, felt my junk, and then walked away.”
“Dude, that’s not a hand job,” Knox says.
“Thank you!” he exclaims, clapping his hands together.
“Can I ask why it matters?” Andi pipes up for the first time this morning.
“It doesn’t,” Sierra responds then looks at her husband. “So Mandy Simpson touched your penis before I did. Big deal. I’m the one you married.”
“But if you call it a hand job, that’s completely changing what happened.Youwere my first and only handjob giver.”
Sierra pats his hand. “You’re right, honey. It wasn’t a hand job.” She looks around the room. Then her gaze falls on us. “So, what’s the deal with you two?”
“Nothing,” I blurt out just as Shane says, “We’re dating.”
He looks at me and I blush.
“We’re a thing. Umm.” I glance around the room at far too many expectant eyes then confirm what Shane said. And God, it feels good. “We’re dating.”
“Since when?” Charlie asks.
Once again, we’re in unison. “Since last night,” comes from me, and “Since last winter,” is Shane’s response.
It’s my turn to look at him.
He grins down at me then lowers his head for my ears only. “You say last night. I say last year. Truth is, sunshine, there’s been no one since you. You’ve had me since that night last December. You just didn’t know it yet.”
My blush deepens. He stares fixedly into my eyes, and I’m unnerved.
“I feel the same, Shane,” I finally admit.
He leans in and caresses my lips for the briefest of moments, completely aware of our audience. When he pulls back, the smile on his face has butterflies soaring through my belly. “I’m glad to hear it. Now, for our anniversary’s sake, we’ll stick with yesterday.”
“We can’t have the same anniversary as Branson and Ariana,” I inform him.
